


Baseball

by NoirRock



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Baseball, Childhood Memories, Dugouts, Flashbacks, Gotta Pee, Little Ian, Little Mickey, M/M, Mickey is a little shit, little league
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirRock/pseuds/NoirRock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey had really had too much to drink and was beginning to regret it. The nine-year-old wiggled in his seat on the bench, chewing on his lower lip impatiently. He whimpered softly, hands between his knees as Coach Wiggins gave the boys his usual pre-game pep talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baseball

Mickey had really had too much to drink and was beginning to regret it. The nine-year-old wiggled in his seat on the bench, chewing on his lower lip impatiently. He whimpered softly, hands between his knees as Coach Wiggins gave the boys his usual pre-game pep talk. Whatever words came out of the fast-talking coach’s mouth went unnoticed by the small dark-haired boy. All he could think about was the fact that his bladder was about to explode. Or at least it felt that way. He’d tried interrupting the coach before, but only got a harsh glare as a response.

Mickey tried to speak up a second time. “Coach, I really gotta—,” Wiggins turned to Mickey, giving that glare again. “Goddamn it, Milkovich!” Mickey had gotten the coach flustered, his face red and angry. He knew he shouldn’t curse in front of the kids, but in this case, with this kid, he couldn’t help it. He was a damn Milkovich. Mickey looked down, flinching slightly. The coach’s tone, the look on his face, reminded him of his father.

“Made me lose my train of… never mind… Milkovich, first base, Gallagher, second…” Begrudingly, Mickey stood, stomping his way to first base. The redheaded kid, Gallagher, jogged in front of him excitedly, and Mickey thought about sticking his leg out and tripping the younger boy. The kid was always so eager to get onto the field, and unlike Mickey, he was really good at the game. Mickey scowled at the kid, and as the field filled up with players, he got a brilliant idea.

He watched the scene carefully. The umpire, the coaches, the opposing team, the spectators in the bleachers. Mickey smirked, and giggling, he undid his pants, relieving himself of the agony that his bladder had been in. Right onto first base. The game hadn’t even started yet and already the Milkovich kid was causing trouble. As urine splattered onto the plate, a wild grin spread on Mickey’s face. He didn’t know who the first to notice was, and he didn’t really care. 

“Milkovich! What the hell are you doing?!” Coach shouted, amid gasps and chattering gossip. His voice stood out from everyone else’s, sharp and pointed, accusatory, shocked. Mickey looked up from his liquid artwork, still sporting a grin. “What?” he asked with a shrug. “I tried to tell you I had to go!”

 

+++

“Did you see that, Fiona?! Did ya, did ya?!” The redheaded eight-year-old jumped up and down beside his fourteen-year-old sister, holding onto her hand tightly as they walked home. Fiona laughed, watching Ian. 

“Yeah, I saw it, buddy!” she chirped back to him. 

“That was crazy!” Ian squeaked, jumping again. Lip giggled at Ian’s enthusiasm. He rolled his eyes, adding how the entire Milkovich family was just as crazy. Fiona knew the story of the Milkovich’s, knew how the head of the family, Terry, could be. Everyone in town was scared of him. The trio of Gallagher’s made it back to the house, and Ian went tearing up the stairs, busting the door open. 

“GUESS WHAT MICKEY MILKOVICH DID TODAY?!” he screeched as he ran into the house. 

 

+++

Years later, and the Milkovich kid and Gallagher boy were back at that field, back in that dugout. The circumstances were different. Much different. They were older now, and taller. Both had lost interest in playing baseball. Ian wanted to be in the Army. Mickey… well Mickey was following in the footsteps of the family business. He had just gotten out of juvie- again. And here he was with Ian, on his first night back, smoking and shotgunning beers and fucking. 

“Always wanted to do that here!” Mickey shouted into the night, panting along with Ian as he zipped up his jeans. “Get back at that Little League commissioner who kicked me off my baseball team for pissing on first base.”

“I remember.” 

“You heard about that?” 

“I was playing second.”

Years later, the answer to the question “Guess what Mickey Milkovich did today?” would not be the same.


End file.
